


Step Softly ( For A Dream Lies Buried Here)

by Aurealis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurealis/pseuds/Aurealis
Summary: It has been two weeks of booze and pills. Two weeks since his kid died. Today was the funeral





	Step Softly ( For A Dream Lies Buried Here)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr and first posted it on my blog (irondadgroupie, in case you were wondering). This got so many reviews (most of them wishing I burn in hell for writing this piece :D ) and so thought I would share it here. I have wanted to write a Peter dies- fic for a long time now and finally it is here.

 

 

Tony opened a bottle of antidepressants, took out two pills and washed them down with scotch. He had given up drinking two years ago when he had met Peter, the boy who trouble seemed to follow. He had needed to be sober in case the kid needed backup, someone to help him out of a bad situation.

 

 

Two years. It was a lot of drinks to catch up on.

 

 

A soft knock from the door.

 

 

“Tony?” Pepper peeked in, her voice soft and full of uncertainty.  “Happy will pick up May, Rhodey promised to drive us to the Funeral home.”

 

 

He nodded. His wife, Peter had been one of the groomsmen at their wedding, was already dressed in a modest black dress and low heels. She was not wearing makeup, there was no kind of mascara that would stay on when they bid goodbye to their boy.

 

 

Tony looked at the suit Pepper had laid out for him, expensive, stylish and so wrong.

 

 

His wife walked behind him and rubbed his shoulders tenderly.

 

 

“I can call them to wait if you need time.”

 

 

Tony swallowed bitterly and shook his head.

 

 

“Let’s just get this over with,” He took off the bathrobe and opened his closet for underwear and socks.

 

 

Two weeks he had spent on bed, occasionally crying but mostly dissociating. The reality was true bleak to live in.

 

 

Peter was dead. His boy was gone.

 

 

Killed by a drunk driver.

 

 

“Tony,” Pepper frowned and walked closer to her husband. “You shouldn’t just get it over with.”

 

 

“What do you want me to say?” He snapped. Ever since that day, since seeing Peter, choked in his own blood, he had been moody. Even Tony himself never knew his reactions beforehand.

 

 

“Tony,” She didn’t back down. “This funeral is a chance to grieve. You- we can share our pain.”

 

 

“And then forget?” It was uncalled for but Tony could not help it. Pepper looked offended.

 

 

“No- you are being-“

 

 

“I have been grieving,” The man was close to a breakdown and the look on his face reminded Pepper of the time after New York, when their relationship had been struggling the most.

 

 

Tears burned in his eyes but Tony refused to let them fall.

 

 

“I- I hurt all the time, Pep,” he was desperate to find a way out. “I just lost the most important part of my life, the one thing that mattered the most, and this pain-“

 

 

He snapped his mouth shut and turned away. He took a black button up shirt and put it on.

 

 

A tear dripped down Pepper’s face.

 

 

“I know it, Tony.”

 

 

He took a tie and his hands were on automatic. His mind travelled to the day he had made Peter learn the art of tie tying. Yes, the boy had some experience but Youtube tutorial was nothing compared to a hand-on-hand- lesson.

 

 

Rhodey embraced him the minute he walked to the living room. He did not return the gesture. Two weeks he had spent in his bedroom, every other place in the Tower reminded too much of the boy. Everyone reminded him of Peter. Therefore he wanted to be left alone and now he was going to see May, Ned, Peter’s relative out of state-

 

 

“Hey, man, you don’t want to be dissociating today, you’ll regret it later,” Rhodey looked at him in the eyes and Tony blinked.

 

 

“I won’t,” The shorter man shook his head.

 

 

Pepper held a candle of hope that the funeral would help progress Tony’s grieving, the man was stuck in a severe depressive episode. He did not eat, the only thing entering his stomach was booze and sleeping pills.

 

 

The man had lost all hope in life.

 

 

The ride to the Funeral home was silent. Pepper was telling Rhodey about the arrangements, she and May had planned the whole thing, Tony’s only contribution had been an open check. Two days after the accident, once the most severe shock had been dealt with, Tony and May had tried to go and by a casket but the man had broken down crying and muttering “he’s so small, they’re too big, he’ll be scared and alone”.

 

 

She had tried to talk to the man about the episode but from that day, Tony had shut her out. He had shut May out, anyone who tried to reach him.

 

 

May and Happy were waiting for them outside the building. The woman had a handkerchief in a grip but she put on a brave smile as Pepper gave her a hug.

 

 

“Glad you could make it,” She whispered.

 

 

“Of course we came,” Pepper smiled and her eyes teared up as she looked at the doors. There were people already going in. She knew none of them, Tony might from his extensive research he had done on the Parker family.

 

 

“Tony,” May stepped forward and pulled the man closer. “Thank you so much for agreeing to give a speech.”

 

 

“It was the least I could do,” Tony’s words held no pride, no anything related to the task. May’s eyes watered as she saw the pain on the man’s face. She had had no doubt that Peter had meant a world to both of them, even though Tony had often called Peter a pain, a dumbass and a reason for his heart issues. She had witnessed the love in how the man’s eyes had always lightened up when Peter entered the room or how they softly teased each other. How many times had Tony cared for the boy when she had been swamped with work?

 

 

“Peter would have been so thrilled, Tony Stark speaking at his funeral.”

 

 

May’s voice broke at the last word and she pressed a hand to her mouth.

 

 

Pepper and May had agreed on a closed casket funeral. Burying a child was already difficult enough, they didn’t need Peter’s dead form invading their sight.

 

 

Tony took a seat and lifted his gaze to the casket. It was beautiful, pure white and red roses had been placed on it in a formation.  

 

 

Peter was in there, in a suit he had bought the boy for a Stark Industries Gala, with his cold, stiff hands crossed. He had been there when the boy had been dressed in his final suit and settled into the position he would spend forever in. He had not trusted the workers to properly care for his kid.

 

 

Organs began to play and those who were not yet crying, started to. Sniffing and sobs were heard throughout the hall. Pepper took out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. The familiar burning returned and his sight was beginning to falter.

 

 

The first tear escaped.

 

 

This was it, Tony bit his lip. These were his last moments with the kid, the boy who had turned his world upside-down. Peter had taught him so much and made him be a better man. Made him want to be a better person in a way nobody had managed before. Because of Peter, he had quit drinking, visited psychiatrist regularly (Peter had gone with him once or twice) and aimed to take care of himself. At first, he had been terrified of someone so innocent, so pure looking up to him but true Tony Stark fashion had made most of it.

 

 

Peter had given him so much and what he had done? He had let Peter die alone, surrounded by strangers and his killer sobbing apologies. The driver’s family had sent them flowers but he had thrown the bouquet down the garbage shoot. The gift had been mocking him.

 

 

A husband and father was in jail but they were at a funeral home, bidding goodbye to a son. There was no equal trade.

 

 

A minister began to talk from the Bible. Tony dissociated and took out his phone. He had nothing against religion but he could not stand this stranger talk about Peter, of his deeds and character. That man knew nothing; to him this funeral was just another gig. He most likely had another right after this one.

 

 

He opened the gallery. Peter’s smiling face calmed his heart. The boy was sitting on the couch, with a mug of hot chocolate, hair still damp from the shower. Tony zoomed in on the picture and Peter’s smile filled the screen. His brown eyes were twinkling with amusement; they had been watching Naked Gun.

 

 

Peter only got to see the first one.

 

 

Tony swiped right, picture after picture and tears rolled down his face. This was how he wanted to remember his boy, bright and joyful, not pale, drained of blood and cold on the ground, covered by a white sheet.

 

 

The time for his speech came. People began to whisper at the name Tony Stark.

 

 

“Peter interned for him,” Some child whispered a few rows back.

 

 

Tony stepped on the podium and took out his notes. He spent most of his coherent moments to come up with the right words. Each time he had gotten out a sentence and then had to have a shot to deal with the pain.

 

 

He looked at his left, at the casket and took a moment.

 

 

People waited.

 

 

“I wrote a speech for Peter,” He lifted his notes. “About his- influence in my life, on all our lives and the joy and- now, standing here- it’s all pure shit.”

 

 

Tony tore up the notes. Pepper tensed up, the moment was bringing back too many memories.

 

 

The man gripped the sides of the podium and took in a breath.

 

 

“This is wrong,” he could not find better words to voice his sentiments. “We should not be here today.  We should not be at this beautiful place but some cruel force said fuck you to us and here we are. That is the only reason I can think of for why this happened.”

 

 

Someone sniffled loudly.

 

 

“Or maybe,” He laughed bitterly. “This is a punishment for our sins. I know I have multiple to account for. But instead of finding the culprit, forces of the universe said, let’s take the most innocent cinnamon bun that ever traced the planet and call it a day.”

 

Tony took in a breath.

 

 

“I am sad. So sad, all the time and nothing helps. I feel like I am losing my mind and a large part of me hopes it’s true because after this anything is heaven. But most of all I am angry. I am angry at the universe.”

 

 

His expression changed to feral.

 

 

“I am angry at that man. Why did he drink? Why did he have to drive? Why did he not hurt someone else? Why the hell did he not die?”

 

 

“Tones,” Rhodey stood up and started walking towards him. But Tony was not done.

 

 

“I am angry at Peter. Why the hell was he on that street at that time? Why did he not call me for a ride? Why did he not stay at school a minute longer? A minute! It would have saved him!”

 

 

“Tony,” His friend grabbed his shoulders and started steering him away from the crowd and towards the bench. The last thing they needed were paparazzi pictures of Tony Stark losing his cool at his intern’s funeral.

 

 

Pepper tried to grasp his arm in support but Tony jerked further away. He bent over his knees and covered his eyes.

 

 

“Peter,” He whispered. “I miss him so much.”

 

 

Rhodey rubbed his shoulders in support.

 

 

Before long, the formal part of the funeral was over and it was time to carry the casket to the grounds. Tony was one of the pall bearers along with Rhodey, Happy, Peter’s Godfather and a couple of his uncles. The casket was light and the men struggled for a moment to get it balanced. The priest led them out, Pepper and May followed, the taller woman supporting the other.

 

 

The ribbon pressed awkwardly into Tony’s shoulder and the metaphorical burden hurt his back.

 

 

These were his last moments with Peter near. After this, he would be lowered to the ground, exposed to dark, cold and isolation. His heart began to hurt as he thought of his boy, his beautiful kid decaying, losing his body to time and erosion.

 

 

“You won’t be there, right?” Tony whispered, so soft nobody could hear. “Do you believe in heaven? I never asked you.”

 

 

There were so many questions he never asked the kid. He did not even know what the kid’s favorite chips flavor was.

 

 

“I do believe in both, heaven and hell. I know where I’ll be going when this is over but you, kid- You’ve got amazing people there. They’ll look after you now that I can’t do it anymore. Just- give a word for me to the Big Guy, okay? Because I want to see you again-“

 

 

He broke down at the last sentence and tears started flowing heavily from his eyes. They burned his skin and blurred his vision. He nearly ran into Rhodey as the entourage stopped.

 

 

_In Everloving Memory of_

_Peter Benjamin Parker_

_10.8.2001- 23.9.2018_

_Beloved Son and Friend_

_Step Softly, a Dream Lies Buried Here_

 

 

It was a beautiful gravestone: dark and the words were in cold with a drawn picture of a dove.

 

 

Peter would have loved it.

 

 

The minister guided them through the motions. The stood on both sides of the deep hole, Tony looked down and felt like throwing up. He felt like he was abandoning his kid to that dark trap.

 

 

“Left side a little slower,” A voice said and the pall bearers steadied the descent. Soon the casket was down and Tony’s side pulled the ribbons up. An assistant took them with a small smile.

 

 

Pepper took his hand and for the first time in weeks, he grasped it back. He tried to hold in the sobs but to no avail. He was hurting physically; there was an ache in his chest that forced tears from him.

 

“Tony,” His wife said softly. “Come with me.”

 

 

The walked to the dirt pile, it would soon be covering Peter. Pepper guided his hand into it and he took in a small amount. Pepper said a small grace as she threw her portion to the grave.

 

 

Tony only took a moment to think up something to say.

 

 

“Safe journey, Underoos.”

 

 

May stepped forward, her eyes red rimmed and face blotched.

 

 

“I thought that we could all sing a small, it was one of Peter’s favorites.”

 

 

The crowd had hoarse voices but could carry a tune surprisingly well. Tony knew the song and the sheet music the assistant had given them were a big help, if he could only blink away the tears.

 

 

“ _There’s a wall beyond the horizon, a strange glow in the sky. And nobody seems to know where you go and what does it mean, ooh, is it a dream_.”

 

 

He was hurting and it was difficult to breathe. He had not enough energy to get to the chorus. He could not give up, this was the last thing he could do for Peter.

 

 

Pain spread to his left arm.

 

 

His knees buckled.

 

 

“Tony!” Pepper cried and crouched beside him. Tony was sweating and gripping his chest.

 

 

“Is it your heart? Tony, is your chest hurting?”

 

 

The man lifted his gaze, his eyes were unfocused and it was an answer enough.

 

 

“Call an ambulance!” Rhodey said and Happy took out his phone, alerting both Avengers medical services and 911. He did not know which team would be quicker considering the Saturday traffic.

 

 

“His pulse is irregular,” Pepper traced her husband’s neck vein. His skin was cold and clammy.

 

 

May overcame her shock and her nurse training kicked into gear.

 

 

“Tony,” She snapped her fingers to get the man’s attention. “Do you have medication? Do you have nitros?”

 

 

Tony tried to take in even breaths.

 

 

“I- at home.”

 

 

“Not with you?”

 

 

“Rarely need them.”

 

 

May nodded her head, obviously dissatisfied with the information but playing it cool.

 

 

“Alright, we can work with his,” she nodded and began to unfasten the man’s tie.

 

 

“May,” Rhodey glanced at the crowd. “Could you get them out of here? I don’t think Tony wants an audience.”

 

 

The woman looked back, she had almost forgotten they were at a funeral.

 

 

“The Memorial Service is held at Queen’s Community Hall. There will be a light meal and beverages served.”

 

 

It was a subtle recommendation to leave the place and give the ailing man peace.

 

 

It took almost fifteen minutes for the paramedics to arrive at the site. By then, Tony’s condition had deteriorated drastically and he was barely responsive despite the professional-level first aid he received from May and Rhodey. His shirt had been fully opened but his breathing was still labored. Pepper had his head on her lap, her soft hand stroking his sweaty hair and trying to comfort him.

 

 

“Hello,” A woman of about 30 years smiled at Tony as she opened her bag. “My name is Karen. Can you tell me yours?”

 

 

Tony licked his lips, not bothering to open his eyes: “You know me.”

 

 

“Yes I do but the aim of this is to estimate your level of awareness.”

 

 

The man did not fight the monitor pads that were slapped on his chest.

 

 

“Tony.”

 

 

“Alright, Tony, it looks like you are having a heart attack. Can you tell me how bad is the pain, a scale of 1 to 10?”

 

 

Another paramedic took out a stretcher.

 

 

“10,” Tony whispered and the woman frowned.

 

 

“Whose funeral was this?” A man crouched next to him and Tony looked at the grave. There was a plastic lid on top of it and a mountain of flowers rested on it.

 

 

“My kid.”

 

 

The young man nodded solemnly: “I’m sorry.”

 

 

“I left him alone there,” He stretched his bad arm as if to reach something invisible.

 

 

“Sir,” The woman pierced his skin with a needle and set and IV. “I am going to give you something for the pain. We’ll take you to the hospital for further testing, alright.”

 

 

A nitro was shoved under his tongue. Within minutes, the paralyzing pain had subsided to bearable levels. Oxygen mask helped bring his levels back towards normal parameters and a blanket swaddled him into warmth.

 

 

“This is most likely caused by emotional trauma but it is best to leave the further diagnosis to cardiologist. Has he had any heart surgeries?”

 

 

Tony turned his head towards the grave. He was not dying after all.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered in his head. “But knowing me, you won’t have to be alone there for long.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You won't believe the amount of tears I shed writing this. I'm on SSRI pills and one of the effects is that I rarely cry but oh my god....  
> Kudos and comments are given a loving home.


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